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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2020
Submitted to Contest #64
England – 1824 The haunting glow of a late November moon settled across the grounds of Gresham Manor. The rolling, grassy knolls were manicured and pristine, with weathered cobblestone walkways spanning the grim, gated courtyard. Though the landscape was sparse, with only a few neglected black rose bushes posing as scenery, the ambiance of Gresham at night was misleadingly serene. The architecture of estate was menacing, with rich, gray stonework and black shingled towers protruding from the roofline. Grand, Victorian windows were fogged ov...
Submitted to Contest #63
“Grandma, Grandma, come on!” The chipper voice of my granddaughter, Elena, coos from a few yards ahead. I can’t help but smile as I watch her skip and twirl as she gleefully explores the orchard that has captivated my heart for so long. Her golden curls bounce with youthful exuberance as she wanders further and further ahead. I struggle to keep up, the natural landscape proving far more daunting than I remember. As my weathered joints do their best to carry me across the rolling hills, I watch my granddaughter fondly. “Grandma, look, here ar...
Submitted to Contest #59
“Hold still, Mary Louise.” I slur through gritted teeth. There’s a safety pin primed for poking between my lips. I struggle to balance on the heel of my new designer pumps, but this bride’s wedding dress is in need of alteration – and there’s no time to call in a seamstress now. I delicately section off a portion of her eggshell gown, twirling the fabric between my fingers and securing it to her corset with the safety pin, being especially mindful of the fragility of the fabric. I carefully position her veil so that it hides our quick fix. “...
The thin red line of duct tape, strewn across the length of my new home, mocks me. Its crimson forbiddance toys with my emotions and I grimace. It stands steadfast like a barrier, keeping me at bay and away from the west side of the house. The west side has been claimed in the name of my husband, Jeremy, which inevitably entitles him to the dining room, family room, guest bed and bath, and our office. The bastard has all of my craft supplies too. I narrow my eyes as I pace the length of our kitchen, frustration and pent up energy are getting...
Freaks, geeks, movers, shakers, and hell, pot brownie bakers… The weirdos, yeah, the weirdos… that’s who we are. There’s nothing particularly wrong with us, no defining characteristic, there’s no stamp of misfortune that’s branded on our foreheads upon birth. We don’t enter unto the world with a flashing neon arrow pointing to us shouting out our societal deficiencies. Yet, somewhere along the line, we’re labeled as the odd balls. We’re the people that just don’t fit in. It’s not for lack of trying, but there’s only so much you can do when t...
Submitted to Contest #58
Three years. That’s how long I’ve been entirely and irreversibly invisible. That’s also how long I’ve worked for Craven Wesley Grainger… stock market tycoon, financial advisor to all of Manhattan’s elite, and notorious playboy. He’s been my boss for three years now, though I’m confident he doesn’t know my name. In a sea of blonde-headed socialites, my fair skin and curly auburn hair don’t exactly fit the bill for the type of people capable of snagging Craven’s attention. Honestly, that’s how I prefer it though. I keep my head down and I do m...
Submitted to Contest #57
The Kolgrim bloodline flows from generation to generation, bestowing on the new both the achievements and transgressions of the old. With each new generation of Kolgrim witches that chooses to accept the destiny of their coven, the family’s lineage expands beyond the restraints of the boundaries set throughout the course of history. Each Kolgrim woman, herein this bloodline, must consciously and willingly choose to take up the powers and responsibilities that come with being a Kolgrim witch. Should she choose to confirm her place within the ...
(Trigger warning: suicidal thoughts, self-harm) I’ve known the darkness. I mean, I’ve truly known it. Like a needle knows a bloodstream. Like a bullet knows the barrel of a gun. I’ve lived in the darkness and allowed it to consume me. My desensitized spirit has fallen victim to the catcalls that it spews, resigning to a love affair I never wanted. I lay there handcuffed, hostage, as the darkness holds the key. All my life, I’ve lived in a bubble. Sheltered. Painstakingly sheltered. Why? The darkness crept in nonetheless, like a thief in the...
Submitted to Contest #56
“Evermore, my sweet October, that’s how long I’ll love you.” I hear the words as they escape my lips. I can almost taste the sincerity behind them as I speak. I smile. It’s the type of smile that crinkles my nose and makes my eyes all-but disappear. I walk across the hardwoods of my quaint apartment. The windows are open and a crisp autumn breeze wafts gently through the air. I inhale deeply, the scent of fresh morning dew and the coffee shop down the street is scrumptious. Heaven. ...
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